Chapter Twenty #2
Marius grinned, but it was an ugly gesture.
So very ugly. “I did not think he had courage,” he said.
“Rupert de Thorington never had a measure of courage in his life. You see, my father believed that my mother and your father had a love affair years ago. He even speculated that I was your father’s son. Did you know that?”
For the first time, her features darkened. “That is a lie.”
Marius shook his head. “It is not, I swear it,” he said.
“Why do you think this all started? Because of The Roden Twins? Certainly, that escalated matters, but now that you and I are to be wed, it is time you know why this all happened. It started when your father could not keep his hands off my mother.”
She was out of the chair in a flash, her calm facade vanished. “That is a nasty lie,” she snarled at him. “My father was a true and noble man who loved my mother. He would have never carried on with another woman!”
Marius was enjoying her rage, pleased he finally had a reaction from her. “Ah, so you have fire,” he said. “I like that. And you. You shall be a tasty morsel upon my tongue, Woman. I had heard you were fine and now I see that the rumors were true.”
She stiffened, struggling to regain her composure. “And I heard that you were a beast,” she said. “I see that those rumors were true, too.”
His smile faded. “If you are trying to please me, this is not the way to do it,” he said. “Careful or I will do to you what my father did to your father. You do not want to end up in Winterhold’s moat. Nasty place.”
She looked at him with horror, which pleased him immensely.
He dragged his gaze up her body, lingering on her breasts.
He even reached out to touch them, but she slapped his hand away.
Then she slapped his face as hard as she could.
His response was to swing at her with a closed fist, catching her on the side of the head, forcefully enough to send her flying.
As Emelisse landed in a heap, Marius laughed and moved towards her crumpled form, preparing to stand over her and gloat, but a strange thing happened.
He felt a breeze; just a faint one, but along with that breeze came something cold and painful ramming into his back. He could feel it sliding into his body.
Shocked, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came forth.
More cold things were jabbing at him and he realized they were daggers.
One was a broadsword. Blood was pouring as men swarmed around him.
He caught movement out of the corners of his eyes, looking up to see Hallam standing in front of him with a bloodied dagger in his hand.
Marius didn’t even realize that it was his blood.
So this is where Hallam went, he thought.
But it was the last thing he would ever think in this lifetime as a massive blade carved into the side of his neck and his head went rolling.
And just like that, Marius de Wrenville was no more.
Caius stood over the man whose head he just cut off, but not for long. Sheathing Negotiator, he bent over Emelisse as she was pushing herself off the floor. He put his arms around her, lifting her up, holding her against him.
“Are you well?” he asked anxiously. “Did he hurt you? I am so very sorry I did not get to him before he struck you. God, tell me you are unharmed.”
Surprisingly, Emelisse was smiling at him, her hand on her stinging cheek. “I am not harmed,” she assured him. “I hit him first. I expected him to strike back, but I didn’t move away fast enough to avoid it.”
She said it with some irony, but he wasn’t over being mortified that she’d been struck and he hadn’t been fast enough to stop it. He pulled her into a crushing embrace, heaving a sigh of relief that the damage was minimal.
“God be praised,” he murmured, his big hand on her head as he held her against him. “You were magnificent, Em. I’ve never seen such bravery.”
She tilted her head back, looking up at him. “It was a simple thing,” she said. “You were here, Cai. I knew that I had nothing to fear.”
“And you never will, so long as I am around.”
“I know, my love. I know.”
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“My love.”
She smiled faintly, with the greatest reverence. “My love,” she whispered.
He cupped her face in his big hands, kissing her gently, before turning to Marius’ supine body.
At that moment, the rage he felt was indescribable.
Hallam, Maxton, Kevin, and William were all milling around the headless corpse.
Maxton instructed William to find something to wrap the body up in and the mood was lightened when William gagged at the sight but gamely went in search of an old blanket or cloak or something similar.
Maxton shook his head humorously at the pale-faced squire.
“If he wants to be a great knight, he is going to have to overcome the urge to vomit every time he sees blood,” he said. Then, his attention moved to Emelisse, who had fulfilled her role in this so ably. “Are you well, my lady?”
She nodded thankfully. “I am fine,” she said. But she pulled forth the small dagger Caius had given her, holding it up. “I wish I’d had a chance to use this.”
Caius smiled faintly. “It does not matter in the end,” he said. “He is finished and we shall never think of him again. For Rupert and Caspian, we were honored to do what we did in their names. And yours.”
Emelisse knew that. Her gaze moved to the headless body and she felt… free. Such a powerful sense of freedom now that the end to her family’s struggles had come so abruptly. By the swords of avenging angels, the end had finally come.
That was how she would always remember this moment.
Saved by Executioner Knights.
“Cai,” Maxton said, interrupting her thoughts. “How do we explain all of this to The Marshal when he asks?”
Emelisse looked up at her husband, who was still standing there with his arms wrapped around her protectively. He seemed to be deep in thought.
“We don’t,” Caius said after a moment. “Covington slipped on his wine and Marius was a casualty of an outlaw attack on his way to Hawkstone. That is all William ever need know.”
Maxton nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “What do you want done with the corpse?”
Caius looked at him, then. “Put him and his father in the moat with all of those men they so gleefully tossed into it,” he said. “Let them rot with their victims. A fitting end for that pair, don’t you agree?”
Maxton grinned. “I do. Fitting, indeed.”
It was Hallam who ended up making one more trip back to Winterhold Castle with the army he’d sent back, only in Hallam’s case, he was carrying wrapped cargo that he explained to the soldiers was none other than the body of Caspian de Thorington.
They had no reason not to believe him.
Later that night, as the army feasted in the great hall and men began to speculate that Marius de Wrenville had run off to marry the de Thorington heiress, Hallam made his way to the outer moat in the darkness, pulling a small handcart with him.
There were men on the walls, but it was so dark that they couldn’t see much of anything other than Hallam tossing chunks of something into the moat.
Arms and legs of an enemy they assumed to be Caspian.
But it wasn’t.
And that was the last anyone ever saw of Hallam Chadlington.
The next morning, random pieces, including heads, were seen floating in Winterhold’s disgusting swamp of a moat.
Some thought it was surely Caspian until another mentioned that one of the heads looked a little like Marius.
By the time they fished it out, the rot and putrid fungus of the moat had eaten away at it, making it positively unidentifiable.
But most knew who it was.
They simply didn’t speak about it.
The moat at Winterhold kept its secrets… and dispensed justice.